


Into The Void

by SleepDeprivedBitch



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, This is definitely replacing therapy for me, This starts off very sad but I promise you it gets better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:27:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepDeprivedBitch/pseuds/SleepDeprivedBitch
Summary: L’Manberg looked beautiful from this angle. Typically, Tubbo would come to this spot and stare at the entire scope of it, at all of the hard work and resilience it represented, as a comfort. As reassurance he was doing a good job. The water rising below the stilts covered the bottom of the crater now, but in this light, it resembled an endless, angry void. If he jumped into it right now, he would never stop falling.If they don't want to reunite, I'll write it myself goddamnit
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OVERALL CONTENT WARNING: SUICIDAL THOUGHTS & MANIPULATIVE BEHAVIOR 
> 
> Please proceed with caution. There is no actual death, but there is extensive contemplation, as this work is meant to be somwhat compliant with the SMP Lore.

“It’s quiet. Without him, you know.”

Tubbo couldn’t look up from his fingernails, bitten down beyond belief--- a habit he always chastised Tommy for having, but happened to pick up himself, as of recent. Figures. 

Fundy gave Tubbo a small nudge. “I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Tubbo. This decision you made was fucking stupid, sure, but what is sulking going to fix? You-” 

Tubbo cut in. “I dug my grave, now I should lie in it. I know, Fundy. As much as you and the rest of my cabinet believe so, I’m not an idiot.” The sun began to set. Crisp winter air hummed through leaves and Tubbo began to wonder if Tommy had somewhere warm to go for the night. If he had somewhere to go at all. An ache bloomed in the pit of his chest. 

“Alright. I’m gonna let you think shit out.” Fundy stood up, ruffling Tubbo’s hair for a second. “Please don’t be too hard on yourself, man. You don’t deserve that.” 

Tubbo waited until he couldn’t hear footsteps receding anymore. L’Manberg looked beautiful from this angle. Typically, Tubbo would come to this spot and stare at the entire scope of it, at all of the hard work and resilience it represented, as a comfort. As reassurance he was doing a good job. The water rising below the stilts covered the bottom of the crater now, but in this light, it resembled an endless, angry void. If he jumped into it right now, he would never stop falling.

“Why couldn’t you have just listened to me, you idiot!” Tubbo asked the void. The void stared up at him. God, he wanted to cry. “Be safe, wherever the hell you are. I need you. Surely you know that, deep down.” 

Maybe he wouldn’t even have to jump. If he stared into the abyss long enough, maybe it would rise up and up and up and swallow him whole.

***

“Morning, Mr. President!” Alex, now donning some sort of new suit Tubbo had never seen before, bounded towards him with several rolls of paper.

“Awful chipper today, aren’t you?” Tubbo rubbed his eyes, feeling a headache forming. He looked up at his new VP, taking note of how strangely he held himself today of all days. Although, this kind of behavior was pretty much the new norm for him. He always seemed to have ideas of his own, behind it all.

A devious smile crept along his face. “I happen to have several drafts of our new… decorations. I don’t know about you, Mr. President, but I can’t wait to butcher this fucking pig once and for all.” Alex narrowed his eyes at Tubbo. “I can only hope you share in my enthusiasm.”

He couldn’t help but feel a little taken aback. “I don’t understand what you mean by that, Big Q. I’ve said I’ll help you with this.”

“Sorry, Mr. Pres, but you can’t really blame me for expecting you to not hold up to your word. The pig is going down, whether you’re by my side for it or not.”

Oftentimes, Tubbo would bite his tongue, even in the face of disrespect. He would refuse to stoop down to the level of insults and passive-aggressiveness, as they never really solved anything, and Tommy never really allowed for that sort of thing from Tubbo especially. However, if his cabinet expected another Schlatt from him already, it was merely his duty to deliver a taste, at least through words if nothing else. “You know, I really don’t have to lie back and be fucked with by my own cabinet. You have a job because of me. You’re able to live here because of me.” Tubbo took a step forward, never releasing eye contact. Alex’s eyes widened minutely, and Tubbo reveled in that. “What plan do you have for this big idea of yours, exactly? Tell me, Alex. Let’s look at this logically, because you know I love that--- You need me to plan this out and pull this through for you, because I am leader for a fucking reason. L’Manberg is as successful as it is under my rule for a reason. Dream is taking down the walls himself under MY orders for a fucking REASON-”

“Dream is taking down the walls because you exiled your fucking best friend! You went against us and decided to give up everything we had in the process!”

“What I actually did, was buy us time to prepare. Are you that dull? I’m on my last life. So is Tommy. Do you really think teaming up with the anarchist was going to yield any results other than both of our demises?” A thought struck Tubbo, then. “Or maybe, that’s exactly what you wanted. Going around, creating a nation of your own, which I fully supported, by the way!.... You want power. You’re next in line if we’re both gone.” Tubbo took another step forward, feeling how much they were both practically seething. “You say I’m like Schlatt, yeah? Before you make that comparison again, take a goddamn look in the mirror.”

Before Alex could say anything more, Tubbo shoved past him, knocking over some of the rolls of paper in his hand. “Go ahead and put up the propaganda for all I care. I’m sure it looks great, because unlike you, I actually trust and value the judgement of my cabinet.”

“Clearly not. You’ve changed, Tubbo. And I really don’t fucking like it.”

Tubbo didn’t even look back. “I’m always going to do what’s best for my nation. I don’t give a shit about personal gain. I already lost the one thing I cared about.” He bit his cheek and tried to steady his voice. He couldn’t afford to show weakness anymore. “Do you reckon that’s enough to change a person, Quackity?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Thoughts about death, but nothing very serious.

The next few days were rather silent, but Tubbo could feel something brewing. He hated this feeling. Silence wasn’t familiar. 

Tommy always wore his heart on his sleeve. Whatever he felt, he just said it outright, with no prior contemplation. As often as it got him and everyone else into trouble, Tubbo envied that of him most of all. As reckless as Tommy was, he was never afraid to say what he felt. He was so undeniably earnest, all the time. 

The one thing Dream wants, is the one thing I care about. 

Tommy had said that, in reference to his discs, but Tubbo had repeated the thought over and over again in his mind. It played on a loop, a constant buzz eroding away a pit in his stomach, the feeling of it landing right in the center, where that firework exploded him. He could remember the bright, sparkling, colorful flames erupting all throughout his insides, too hot, too much, so much pain he couldn’t hear himself scream over it, no one could hear him, he was so alone…. And then nothing. Tubbo honestly didn’t know if he would feel like a whole person again. 

At least the Nothing was peaceful. “Why is everyone so afraid of dying if it’s so painless? It’s living that’s full of suffering. Who the fuck wants to live if it’s always like this? It never ends until it ends for good.” It never ends until it ends for good.

That’s not such a bad thought. Morbid, yes, but reasonable. Understandable.

“Tubbo?”

Tubbo felt the temperature grow colder. A glowing blue light approached him, taking shape of a familiar face. Ghostbur.

“Tubbo, what are you doing in the middle of the forest? I could hear you talking to yourself.”

Tubbo looked around. He couldn’t even feel himself walking, he was so in his own head. Ghostbur’s aura illuminated the trees surrounding him. None of it felt real. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t even realize I was here.” Tubbo chuckled weakly, hoping Ghostbur didn’t hear any of what he might’ve said aloud. “I also didn’t realize I was talking.”

“I don’t blame you. You must have so much on your mind, being the leader of an entire nation and all.” Ghostbur’s face turned contemplative. “I heard… Some things you were talking about. About death.” 

“Wilbur, they were just...” Tubbo sighed. “Just thoughts. Thinking out loud, you know? Don’t tell anyone else, please. Please, just keep this between you and me. They can’t know.”

“Tubbo, I wasn’t going to tell the others. You can relax.” Ghostbur handed him a blue stone from one of his pockets. A wave of calm washed over him. “However, I will tell you this. Dying is not painless. Dying is not just nothing.”

Tubbo looked down at the stone. “What is it, then? It can’t be worse than this. It can’t be worse than feeling alone.” 

“Listen, Tubbo. Dying is regret. Dying is feeling lost. Dying is loneliness and emptiness on a continuous loop. I can’t take back anything my living self has done, nor can I make things right in any way. I can only apologize for something I can’t even remember.”

“But at least you don’t have to be burdened with the memories of the bad things.” Tubbo clutched the stone, trying to hide the way his hands shook. He felt so weak. 

“I may not remember the bad things, but I feel them. The feelings consume me. The emptiness and the Nothing consumes me. Dying is a constant ache, a constant hollowing of your soul.” Ghostbur placed a cold, barely-there hand on Tubbo’s cheek. “Don’t do this to yourself. Your childhood has been stolen from you, but you have the rest of your life to make things right. You have all the time in the world to get your Tommy back.” 

Tubbo had no words to say. He felt silent tears fall down his cheeks. “I have no idea how I’m going to do it. I have no power. I have no resources. There is nothing I can do to defeat Dream.”

“Power is meaningless. You learn that after you die. Everyone feels weak, all the time. No one is truly secure in how much power they have. That’s why they latch on to things they can comprehend, like discs, like nation boundaries, like war. Dream is only as powerful as you allow him to be. You are as powerful as you allow yourself to be.” 

“Maybe. But that doesn’t erase the fact Dream has an entire arsenal practically on him at all times. We can’t fight him.” 

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re a smart kid.” Ghostbur reached into his pocket for something. “Smarter than most. I do have something for you, though. Something that might prevent you from losing sight of yourself.” 

Tubbo held out his free hand to accept Wilbur’s gift. “A… glowing compass? Is this, like, symbolism?” 

Wilbur laughed. “That’s how I operate these days. Symbolism and shit. Look closer.” 

Tubbo held the weight of the compass in his hand. He recognized Wilbur’s handwriting on the compass directions, which meant he had made this himself. On the back of the compass, there were engravings of things Tubbo liked: small bees, a tree, a doodle of a bench. Tubbo flipped it over again. At the top, were two words. 

“I figure that wherever you are in the world, it would be nice to know exactly where to go to find him. It points directly to him at all times.” 

Tubbo immediately sunk to the ground. Wet grass from previous rain soaked the knees on his suit pants. He couldn’t stop shaking. Was he still crying? He touched his cheek to confirm that, yes, he was practically sobbing now. “I- I don’t even know what to say. Thank you, Wilbur.” 

Although the tears in his eyes made it hard to see, he could still make out the glowing words. 

Your Tommy. 

“I have a hypothesis. I think that true power comes from the love that you feel. If I’m correct, there’s nothing in this universe or the next that could keep the two of you apart for long. If I were Dream, I’d be shitting my pants.” 

Tubbo broke out into laughter. Wilbur followed. It felt like they laughed for eternity.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Warning for contemplation of suicide.

It was so quiet without him.

The first few days of exile, quiet nights comforted Tommy. He missed Tubbo’s voice, of course, but silence was better than listening to Dream’s constant snide remarks, always managing to make his skin crawl. Just his presence alone practically gave Tommy nausea. 

Today, of all days, was different. 

His heart ached from the quiet. He was so goddamn sick of being alone. For the first time ever, Tommy found himself actually missing Dream, because, after all, Dream was the only one who showed up for him today. Make-shift party directions laid haphazardly all throughout the coast of Tommy’s island. Unused. Unappreciated. 

It was a strange paradox, really. The person responsible for getting him into this mess was exactly the one making all of it just a bit more bearable. Tommy actually thought about this quite a lot, that maybe Dream was nice, underneath everything. After all, he’s made a habit of protecting Tommy from danger, and some days, he would even let Tommy keep his own armor instead of destroying it. Maybe Dream considered him to be an ally now. 

Maybe one day, Dream would see that Tommy had potential and they could actually be friends. 

“What the fuck am I thinking?” Tommy asked the shadows dancing on the roof of his tent. He couldn’t sleep at all tonight. He begrudgingly hoisted himself up and leaned over to open his chest of valuables. Hidden underneath several gifts from Dream, was the compass. 

He hadn’t looked at it since Ghostbur brought it to him; he just stuffed it underneath everything else. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at it if he wanted to. It’s not like he could stop by for a visit anyway. 

This must be some kind of cruel joke from the Universe, to give him a constant reminder of what he could never have. Besides, if Dream knew he had this, it would be destroyed. 

Tommy had come to terms with the fact he fucked up, but did he really deserve to suffer this much? 

“Fuck it.”

Tommy tossed the compass back into the chest and started running in a direction. Somehow, he ended up at the portal. Somehow, he ended up in the Nether. 

Somehow, he ended up on a ledge. Somehow, he-

Somehow, he saw Tubbo in the bright, angry gleam of the lava below him. But it wasn’t really Tubbo. It was his mind playing tricks on him, surely. 

Tubbo sat on a bench, right in front of him. Laughing at something. He wasn’t wearing a suit. 

He still had the scars from the fireworks. He looked older, but still the same Tubbo. The bubbling of the lava began to sound like a distorted version of his shrieking laughter. Familiar, but not really. He shifted his sight to see… Himself, sitting right next to Lava Tubbo. They were laughing together. 

Tommy looked older, too. Although, he wasn’t wearing the same clothes he was wearing now. Was this the future? 

Surely, Tommy couldn’t actually be seeing anything correctly right now. Sweat poured into his eyes, stinging them. He always hated the Nether. The more he tried to breathe, the more ash clouded his lungs in an attempt to suffocate him before he could do anything else from atop this ledge. But, Tubbo was here. How bad could it be for him to stay and indulge himself in hope, just this once?

Even the Nether couldn’t be that bad if Tubbo was here with him. He reckoned the two of them could take on Hell. 

But Tubbo wasn’t here, not actually. Now that he thought about it, Tubbo didn’t even show up to Tommy’s party even though Dream said he had Wilbur invite him. Why the hell didn’t he show up?

“Do you hate me?” Tommy asked the shifting, crackling image of Tubbo. “I don’t hate you. I miss you, you prick.” He picked up a piece of netherrack and launched it directly at the image playing out underneath him. Just like that, Tubbo dissipated and left a distorted, deeply unrecognizable image of Tommy sitting all alone. 

Maybe he really was the problem all along. The exile couldn’t have just been a decision made on a whim. Tommy was always really good at pushing buttons, at making people show the worst of themselves. Tubbo was the one person Tommy could never quite break in that way. Tubbo always just, understood him. Accepted him just as he was. 

“My right-hand man…” Tommy kneeled at the ledge, reaching a hand out over the lava below. Even from this height, heat rose up his arm, unbearably hot. He could really end it all right now, and he would only feel a moment of pain.

It would be so easy. 

A strong arm pulled Tommy back from the ledge, shoving him to the ground. At first, Tommy thought Tubbo was standing behind him this whole time. Maybe he actually came back and maybe they were going to run away to that cabin in the woods they always talked about and maybe they would actually be kids for once and maybe-

“It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy.”

Dream. 

“It’s never my time to die.” Tommy sighed, coughing ash. He could honestly laugh right now. For someone who used to be so hellbent on killing him, Dream seemed to take on the responsibility of being his fucking babysitter with grand fervor. 

Dream didn’t respond. He just hoisted Tommy up and practically dragged him back to the portal. Dragged him away from Tubbo for the second time in his life. 

“I’m getting some serious deja vu right now.” Tommy tried to laugh, but all that came out were choked sputters. 

Dream still didn’t respond, but Tommy guessed that Dream had no fucking idea what he was on about. As soon as they reached the Overworld, Dream let go of him and apathetically spectated his crumpled form on the ground, gasping for air. After several moments, Dream spoke. 

“Do you have any explanation for that stunt you just tried to pull?”

“Jesus, what are you, my mother?” Tommy spat, rolling onto his back. “I reckon you don’t really care what the fuck I do with myself, Dream.” Tommy laid in the grass, staring up at nothing. He felt nothing. 

“Really? It seems as though I’m the ONLY one who gives a damn about you at all. Who just rescued you from doing stupid shit like that? Not your little friend.” 

Tommy protested weakly. “Don’t talk about hi-”

“It’s time you move on, Tommy. He doesn’t care about you anymore. You heard it from Tubbo himself: You’re a liability. He wants power. You know what he’s been doing all this time you were gone?”

Tommy closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to hear this. He couldn’t think straight at all, but Dream’s voice persisted inside his skull.

“He’s been doing little projects with the cabinet. Starting a chess club. Making L’Manberg better. You may think he’s devising a plan to come rescue you, but he’s just been doing everything he couldn’t do while you were there. It’s time you move the fuck on. He certainly has.” 

“Stop-”

“You know that little compass Wilbur gave you? I know about that, by the way. Tubbo actually has one of his own. You wanna know what he did with it?”

“Stop-”

“He threw it in the ocean. Said he didn’t want to be bothered anymore-”

“I SAID STOP.” Tommy felt tears fall down the sides of his face. He curled in on himself, writhing on the unforgiving ground below him. Everything was so relentless and cold. 

Dream let him shake pathetically and fold in on himself in silence. Tommy realized then how much he really hated being watched like some fucking zoo animal. After a while, Tommy heard footsteps retreating, and he thought he was finally free for the moment to wallow in misery. Until the footsteps came back moments later. 

“I’m sorry, Tommy.” Dream’s voice was softer now. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. Obviously, you’re going through a lot right now.” Tommy hated himself for it, but he felt comforted with how softly Dream spoke to him. He’d never heard Dream sound like this before. From where Tommy was curled up, he turned his head to see the tall figure standing behind him holding two glowing tridents. 

“When I get in my own head, I like to fly away from the thoughts. I rise up through the water, and I feel like I’m on top of the world. Nothing can reach you when you’re at the top of the world, Tommy. And then, you realize how small your problems actually are.” 

Tommy furrowed his brow. “The water’s fuckin’ cold.” 

Dream chuckled. “When you immerse yourself in it completely, you don’t feel cold anymore. You just have to trust me. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.” Dream extended a trident handle out to him. “Do you trust me, Tommy?” 

In the dead of night, Dream’s mask was the only thing visible under the trident’s glow. Before he knew it, Tommy saw his own hand reach out to grab the handle. 

A surrender. 

***

“You’re getting the hang of it now!”

Dream’s voice could barely be heard over the roar of the ocean and adrenaline pumping through every inch of him. Dream was right; every time Tommy launched himself into the sky, that split-second feeling of suspended weightlessness made him invincible. Nothing could hurt him at the top of the world.

But then he would fall, and that moment of delusion would crash into the depths below. Each wave eroded away parts of him he knew he would never get back. However, the craving for that specific moment was too strong to ignore. So he did it again, and again, and again.

After all, maybe one day he’d be on a beach somewhere and he’d see a little piece of his soul wash up on shore. 

A thought struck Tommy: maybe he could reach the very top of the world and the stars would carry him away from here entirely. He could live on a cloud where nothing could ever hurt him again, where that weightless feeling he craved so deeply would be constant. He charged up the trident one last time.

He aimed it directly at the sky, and let the tide rise him up. The journey upwards felt painful this time around. The wind pushed him downwards, resisting his escape, yet he closed his eyes and persisted, soaring beyond the clouds. When Tommy felt himself slowing, he opened them to see nothing at all for miles and miles and miles. No beginning, no end. No other sensation could be felt other than an inexplicable Cold. Dream was right about that, too--- when you’re completely enveloped in it, the cold doesn’t feel bad at all. 

“I’m alone.” 

For just one second, Tommy felt complete and utter solitude. He felt so free. 

As he fell, Tommy let go of the trident and reached for the void instead. 

But he never stopped falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this Tommy POV! I tried to change up the writing style a little bit to be a bit more simplistic, as I feel like Tommy's train of thought has definitely deteriorated in exile & his character also doesn't overthink the way Tubbo's does. 
> 
> I'm also very sorry this chapter was so sad

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! I've found inspiration to write again :D This story has been very cathartic for me to write so far, but it does deal with some very heavy topics which are reflective of the current state of the SMP lore. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed writing <3


End file.
